A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall'
by Victor
Summary: Squall decides to take few swings at Irvine in a bar. Irvine decides to swing back.


Squall enters The Bar and immediately processes everything that might be pertinent in the next few minutes: A decent estimate of how many people are there (about 100), where the majority of them are clustered together (2 deep at the bar itself (26 people total), two small groups (7 people each) at either end of the stage), and how far to his destination (3 long strides).

Irvine is sitting at a table by the far corner of the bar. He's got his feet propped up in the chair across from him and he's enjoying the view of the four ladies in a booth off to his right. He catches a movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to see Squall walk in and beeline in his direction. "Where ya been, Pretty B-"

He doesn't see Squall's arm move. He simply feels the punch land and then the floor is a lot closer than it was a second ago.

Squall clenches his teeth and sneers down as Irvine rubs his jaw, untangles himself from the table base, and stands up.

Everything in The Bar stops completely. Everyone is looking at the two of them and no one is speaking or even moving. Squall is vaguely aware that Doc - the bartender - is motioning for a few of the patrons closer to Irvine's table to step back a little.

Irvine picks his hat up from the floor and brushes it off. "Reckon I deserved that..." He tosses the hat to Doc, who promptly hangs it on a beer tap. "You need t'keep goin'? 'Cause you ain't gettin' anymore for free."

The band springs to life and starts playing 'A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall' just as Irvine ducks under Squall's wildly telegraphed next punch. He takes the opportunity to put two short jabs into Squall's stomach. Despite his grunt as the air is forced from his lungs, the blows don't do any real damage, but Squall is forced to take a half step back to retain his balance. Irvine rises back to his full height, using his momentum to land a solid uppercut on Squall's chin.

Squall spins with the blow and comes around with a thundering backhand that sends Irvine careening into his table, knocking it over. Squall lunges forward to plant a couple of rabbit punches into Irvines's exposed side which allows Irvine to catch him in a headlock before bringing an elbow down onto the back of Squall's head.

Falling to all fours, with nothing but a blazing array of colors in his eyes, Squall pushes himself sideways to avoid the kick he knows is coming. He catches Irvine's leg before it can connect with his ribs, but Irvine is already in mid-swing with a hammer blow to Squall's shoulder.

Rather than release his grip, Squall tightens his hold and leverages himself back to a standing position. Irvine lets out a 'whoop' as he's pulled completely off-balance and can do nothing to avoid Squall's forehead slamming into the bridge of his nose.

Irvine reels backwards as kaleidoscoping fireworks of pain erupt in his head. He doesn't see the haymaker that Squall throws, but he feels his knees go rubbery when it hits. He lands in a still upright chair and shakes his head clear. He spits some blood - and possibly a tooth - off to his left before standing and wiping his mouth, leaving a streak of red on the sleeve of his coat. "Feelin' any better?"

As an answer, Squall takes another swing.

Irvine blocks it and catches him with a vicious jab sending a gout of blood across the white collar of Squall's jacket. "Didn't think so." Pressing his momentary advantage, Irvine throws a left cross and follows it with two rights.

Squall manages to block the first two punches but the third one cracks solidly across his jaw, sending him stumbling into the bar where the back of his head thuds against a support pillar. He sinks down to the floor and raises his hands. "Okay. Think I'm done now."

Irvine chuckles as he rights the overturned table. "You sure? I was just gettin' warmed up." He reaches over and helps Squall into a chair.

"Pretty sure."

"We can go again if you want. I'll let you win next time."

Squall gently touches his broken nose and winces. "Rain check?"

Irvine nods, walks over to retrieve his hat, says something to Doc that Squall can't hear and comes back to sit down.

The crowd has already dispersed back to their various huddles as the band continues to play.

After a few moments, Doc sets two dark beers and a shot of tequila on the table and moves off.

Irvine picks up the shot glass, holds it over Squall's beer - "I invented a drink for you."

Squall cocks an eyebrow.

"Thought you'd say that." - and drops it. "I call it The SeeD Commander. Drink up."

[][][][][]

I'll explain more about The Bar later, for now, though, a little backstory: My lovely wife - Summoner Luna - has a story that she is sporadically working on that is becoming more and more epic in scope. This is really only a problem in the sense of she's not sure where it will ultimately end, or even if she'll even publish it... At one point in this story, however, there was to be a kind of throwaway scene of Squall and Irvine having a brawl in a bar while Bob Dylan's 'A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall' plays over the action.

I decided to write the fight because who among us isn't a little enthralled by the idea of these two having a go at each other?

So here it is. A deleted scene - of sorts - from a story that - of sorts - doesn't exist.


End file.
